Buffy by way of the xmen
by TwilightMus
Summary: A cute little buffyxmen story... lots of focus on Willow and some fun with my horrible use of german. Also some social ranting.
1. Little miss Rosenbergh

This is a little fic I did a few years back Hope you enjoy, I don't own any of the characters just the plot

Willow Rosenberg sat on tuffit eating her curds and weigh... no really... Willow had spent an evening browsing the magic shop when she came across a spell to strengthen her interdimentional prowess... If she read it correctly the "Moinanx rejunction" said that eating curds and weigh while sitting on a short, fluffy, stool, and reciting the incantations of moinanx, would give her the ability to cross the boundaries that separate realities.

It had been one of those weeks for Willow Rosenberg. Her relationship seemed to be getting rockier and rockier ever since she'd brought Buffy back from the dead, and the Scooby gang were all acting strangely toward her. She was willow, she was their friend, and she couldn't see why anyone especially Tara should feel any anxiety just because she broke the laws of mortality. I mean come on, sure it doesn't happen every day, but Buffy could do back flips off three story buildings and no one so much as blinked about that. It was society, all that Wicca phobia, and maybe even a little anti lesbianism... still that didn't explain Tara.

Willow sighed, inhaling the mystical cleansing powers of sage, or was it St. Johns Wart? She couldn't remember. Come to think of it she couldn't really recall ever lighting any incense... Willow opened her eyes and looked around her... there was a kind of smoky shield in front of her, it swirled in gray and black occasionally alighted by what looked like a spark of electricity... Small openings through the smoke allowed her to catch glimpses of her room, her cat, her TV, her bed, her St. Johns Wart safely hung on the spice rack over hers' and Tara's' beds.

She reached forward and tried to put a hand through the smoke.

ZAP!

"... well that's just rude, and ow... why does magic smoke always shock me?"

"Don't panic willow... you're an uber witch remember?... you brought Buffy back from the dead... you can levitate the couch, you can get out of this smoke whatever it is..." she thought to herself still clutching the cereal in one hand and a spoon in the other.

"TARAH, TARAH HELP!"

The smoke seemed to react to her words... it jolted with more electricity ("ow") and began to contract around her...

"Errrr Tara, Tara don't help?"

The smoke contracted some more.

"Ummmmm... DISPEL!"

The smoke jolted with electricity as Willow made a wave with her hand in the air at it, yelling the counter spell.

"No... no... no..." she whimpered.

"Foolish Girl!"

"Such power!"

"Foolish Girl!"

"What? Who said that?" Willow quivered.

The sinister voices echoing around her, became louder and louder every second... the voices were horrible and made her skin crawl, they resembled a sound her chain smoking aunt used to make when she went too long without a cigarette (or rather, whenever she didn't have one in her mouth).

"Foolish little Witch, plays with magic tricks?"

"She will feed us for so long my darlings!"

"Foolish little witch, foolish little bitch?"

"What do you want?" Willow yelled looking around in the now almost pitch black darkness... for the source of the voices...

"Foolish little witch, thinks she is a..."

Willow rolled her eyes.

"BLAH BLAH BLAH already, you'd think you mystical harbingers of doom would get sic of being all evasive and oooooOOOoooo look at me I sound like I'm on crack I must be dangerous... what's with th..."

Just then willow looked down at her curds (and her weigh) and saw something glinting in the light of the sparky magic... eight long slender legs attached to a very sickeningly large and hairy body ending in a grotesque head full with two large pinchers for a mouth and octagonal glinting black eyes, all that multiplied by about a hundred, and swarming over her legs and hands.

A large body slinked down along the length of a thin chord directly in front of her... "Hello my little treat... do you want to feed my babies?"

There was a scream... somewhere there was a scream... she couldn't remember, then there was a room... something chasing her... a large room, with no floors and no walls... did she scream? or was it someone else?... the doors floated, she was floating... she heard voices... "Stay back! It's coming!"... Something in her head... "Run Willow Run!"... "How can I run? I'm floating? There's no ground"... "Come back my treat"... "RUN WILLOW RUN!"... "Eat her!" "Open the door, go through the door"... then more voices... "Look out Kurt!"... "I've got them!"... "WE ARE HUNGRY!"... "GO THROUGH THE DOOR!"... she knew that voice, that voice telling her to go through the door, that was Tara's' voice... she reached out for the door... "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"...


	2. Visions

Chapter II Visions

"So Tara? What do you think? Stale chocolate frosted sugar bombs or, Burnt leftover homemade pizza?"

"Here let me see that"

Tara pulled the box of over ambitiously sweet cereal from Dawn and looked at it discerningly.

"Which one do you want Buffy?"

"Huh? Oh... whatever you want is fine"

Buffy sat behind the counter across from Her sister and Tara, staring up at a cupboard on the wall absentmindedly. She had a vague memory of her mother once pulling dishware out of that cupboard and then in an instant, as though in a trance she saw it... no, seeing wasn't right, she felt it, every fiber of her being remembered... she was alive, her mother was fine and near. She was happy, so happy, the colors in the room seemed to spin, maintaining their shape yet somehow more vivid and beautiful and alive, like the colors themselves were dancing with joy... she was so happy, everything was fine, and she had only that happiness to look forward to for the rest of her...

Then like a scream ripping down her spine it was all gone… In an instant that stretched for an eternity, the feeling of joy vanished, replaced by an anguished sorrow, so sad, the sadness became a void… Her skin felt like she had been bathing in a hot spring and was then suddenly dipped in acid… her fists clenched, the cup of orange juice she had been holding shattered in her grip and cut into her skin, but she barely even registered it's existence. All she could see now was the darkness eating away at everything, like the whole world was bathed in a sickness that caused it to eat itself, her sister and Tara looked like mere shadows of people, not quite whole, not quite right. She set her jaw in anguish, staring ahead forcing herself not to scream.

"Buffy?" came Dawn's voice from somewhere distant "Buffy? Are you o-o-ok?"

It was like a veil settling over an orgy of leeches… the world came back into focus... Buffy looked down at her hand, still bleeding, a large chunk of glass engorged in it.

"Uh... I'm fine... I'm ok... how are you?"

Dawn looked at Tara, who stared back with an expression of fear mirrored in her eyes.

"Why don't you let me clean up your hand, Buffy... here..." said Dawn taking the bottom of the cup from her sister's bleeding hand, and replacing it with a wet towel. "... Let's try to get that glass out before it gets infected."

Buffy, finally realizing why they were acting so concerned, pulled her hand away quickly "Oh no, it's ok Dawn, I'm ok, you know me, a klutz with the strength of a slayer. I'm fine, I'll clean it up ok, you just have breakfast."

Buffy moved to the sink and started to remove shards of glass with a pair of tweezers... somewhere in her consciousness she registered that she actually enjoyed the sensation of ripping junks of glass from her flesh... but the rest of her mind was busy fighting to keep the veil over the world.

"Buffy...?"

"It's ok I'm fine, I promise, go ahead eat breakfast, you have to get to school soon."

Tara pulled Dawn away from her sister, still with a concerned look in her eye, and said in an all-too-unconvincing voice "C'mon Dawn, Buffy's fine, just have some breakfast".

"But..."

"Dawn, eat already! Stop stalling." came Buffy's agitated scolding.

Tara picked up the box of _Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs_ and pulled a smooth grey rock out of her pocket.

"I think I know how to solve our breakfast food dilemma."

Dawn watched as Tara stared at the stone for a moment seeming to concentrate.

"_Eradico Sitis_!" said Tara in a commanding voice, very unlike her usual unassuming tones.

There was a blue flash from the stone and the box glowed a soft blue haze for a moment before returning to its mundane cereal boxness.

"There, that should do it." Tara proclaimed, and proceeded to pour cereal into three separate bowls already waiting on the counter.

"Wow! Instant magicky freshness!" exclaimed Dawn grabbing a bowl.

"Yeah that spell comes in handy a lot at college." said Tara mildly.

"Hee hee, it's like _Wiccan-stale-be-gone_, you should market. Oh, hey! Do you think you could use magic to get more sugar into these things?"

"I don't think that's possible," said Tara dryly.

"Or safe" chided Buffy.

Buffy made quick work of her wounds and the three young women gathered around the kitchen counter and began the much-practiced routine of consuming glucose.

"So Dawn" Tara quipped to break the uneasy silence, "Which classes do you have today?"

"... ummmm Algebra, Biology, PE, and World Cultures..."

"Oh world cultures was my favorite class in high school, I loved learning about all those different traditions and values all over the world, and it was really validating to know that the American view of things wasn't the only way of looking at the world, y'know? Like in Mesopotamia for instance, spiders are attacking willow in a dimensional vortex"

"What!"

"Tara?"

Tara was staring at her cereal as though she were trying to see through it to the counter beneath.

"Tara, what's going on…?" asked Buffy with unusual concern.

"It's Willow... no! Willow!... RUN WILLOW!" Tara yelled at the cereal bowl.

Both Buffy and Dawn looked down at their own bowls only to be slightly disappointed at seeing nothing but chocolate-colored milk with small balls of sugar floating in it.

"What are you talking about?" asked Dawn fearfully.

"Willow's in the milk! I mean she's running away from something somewhere... Hurry Buffy. Go check on her, in her room."

Buffy didn't bother to ask anything more; she turned and ran up the stairs with Dawn at her heels looking confused.

Buffy had never seen Tara like this before, something in her voice told Buffy, "This was not good," years of saving lives and managing crisis put her on autopilot the instant Tara spoke...

"Through the door willow! Go through the door!" came Tara's frightened voice from the kitchen below them.

Buffy passed the bathroom at a full run, her room, Willow's was just on the left.

There was a loud crack, a flash of light, a Pop!... and the door blew off its hinges, knocking Buffy through Dawns open doorway, onto her bed...

"Willow? Willow are you o..."

Buffy heard Dawn's voice come from Willow's room.

There was a muffled scream...

"Dawn, NO!" Buffy threw the door off herself, which shattered into several pieces against Dawn's dresser, and ran into Willow's room.

Dawn stood with her hands covering her mouth, an expression of shock on her face. Everything in the room had been turned upside down as though a tornado had just tried it's hand at domestic maintenance. There were scorch marks on the walls, a broken mirror hung loosely from a hook on the wall. The armoire was cracked down the center and most of the books were either scattered or burning... In the center of the room lay a book, on top of which a bowl of hot cereal had spilt it's contents.

An overturned plush stool lay sideways; just above it, the air was still crackling with mystical jolts of energy as though a localized lightning storm had just finished unleashing it's terror and was now slowly dispelling the last remnants of it's deadly assault.

But none of this was what Dawn was staring at... right next to the stool on the floor lay two bodies: one, a beautiful, ebony skinned woman in a silky yet commanding green and bronze dress. Long, flowing, stark-white hair had fallen in a disheveled heap above her head. Blood running freely down her face.

It was the other, spooning her body protectively with his own, was what had elicited the scream of shock from The Slayer's sister. Very fine blue fur covered the slim, muscular body of what looked like a man but with the most distinct signs of demonic heritage. His legs bent the wrong way at the knees, and his feet were elongated like those of a cat. His hands boasted only three fingers each, and a long thin tail topped with a spade-like point extended out behind him like some unearthly, blue snake.

Willow was nowhere to be seen.


	3. Soap box of pain

Chapter III Soap Box of Pain

First there was darkness... then slowly ever so slowly, there was more darkness... then just when the darkness seemed to consume everything, as though there were no light anywhere in the universe, and a void had settled in it's place devouring everything around it, there was more darkness...

... Until Willow Rosenberg opened her eyes and the light hit her pupils.

It was a muggy summers day... there was stagnation in the air and the smell of pollution that she was not used to... where was she?

She heard a moan as she tried to lift herself off of the cold pavement where she lay, sprawled as though she had been tossed against it. There were sounds she was still trying to make out... all metallic, cars driving, and construction work... there were voices too...

The world came into focus as she stood up, her head rushing from the shift in blood pressure... she looked around...

She was in a city, a big city. Skyscrapers stretched as far as the eye could see; there was a street crammed full of cars and the sounds of horns going off randomly in all directions.

Where the hell was she!

The sidewalk she had been lying upon was a dingy gray, pieces of newspaper clippings and magazine pages drifted lazily on the wind, or rested near lampposts, fire hydrants, and full-to-the-brim trash cans. Most of the windows were broken in the buildings beside her, some boarded up, others looked like their vandalism had been recent, and were surrounded in shards of broken glass. Most of the vertical surfaces on the street were covered in graffiti...

Willow noted that there must be some weird gang or religious group calling themselves "The Mutants", wherever she was, because there were a lot of people who seemed to dislike them.

Willow began to walk, slowly down the road, not sure where she was going, looking for some sign of where she was. She had not walked very far when she heard loud, angry voices coming from a side street to her right... With nothing better to do, and the promise of people she could get information from as to her whereabouts (despite their apparent bad moods) she fallowed the growing chorus of shouts and jeers...

"Lousy mutant!"

"Get out of our city!"

"Stay away from our children you pervert!"

"You should all be neutered!"

"Fucking Mutie!"

"We don't want you here!"

"Who said you could come to our neighborhood!"

"Go back to hell where you came from you freaks!"

Willow walked a little faster once she could make out what the voices were yelling...

A large crowd had gathered on the sidewalk outside what appeared to be an old run-down apartment building, the people were all yelling, some standing on cars parked along the side of the street. Obscenities flew like mosquitoes in Florida. Fists bearing clubs, signs, baseball-bats, and just about every object that could be fit into a hand and used for bashing someone's skull in, were raised in anger.

Willow pushed herself to the side of the crowd trying to get a better look at what they were protesting so adamantly.

Unable to see through the montage of people, she asked the nearest anger-filled pedestrian (who happened to be an old woman in a shawl and large overcoat brandishing a pair of reading glasses in their case like a deadly weapon).

"Excuse me?" questioned Willow tentatively trying to get the woman's attention... "I'm sorry, I didn't get here till just now, what are we protesting?"

The elderly woman eyed Willow suspiciously for a moment before seeming to decide that she was deserving of an explanation and then said in a still angry and rather unhushed voice "They found one of them mutant hooligans here in our very own neighborhood! Honestly, the nerve of those creatures! They should all be locked up safely away from good, honest, god-fearing Americans like us! Really, the police should be doing more to keep them away from normal people."

Willow pondered this for a moment and realized that for such a large mob there really wasn't a siren to be heard. Even in sunydale this sort of thing would have attracted more attention from the local authorities.

Again she tapped the old woman on the shoulder who had resumed waving her spectacles around madly and swearing at the top of her lungs.

"Excuse me, again, sorry... but could you just tell me, I'm afraid I've been out of the loop for a while, don't watch TV much anymore, not since... but anyway, what is a mutant?"

The woman looked rather bewildered and annoyed for a moment but was saved from having to answer the apparently disconcerting question when another angry mob attendee to willows right spoke up in her stead.

"Mutants are genetic trash, people born with defective genes that make them different and dangerous. It's a disease really, people born with it become monsters, and horrible freaks... they should all be put away, or out of their own misery so that we can sleep peacefully again!"

The man who had spoken was young, had dark brown hair, and intense green eyes... he was wearing a very flattering casual suit and had a briefcase in one hand (which he had been waving around threateningly only a moment before). Willow noted that, had she not been a lesbian, she would have found him very attractive and charismatic, even the anger in his voice was coated with a thick endearing quality that bespoke of years of practice, swaying large groups of people to believe one thing or another.

"That's horrible." she said, looking a little shocked.

She was in advanced genetic theory this semester; she would have thought she'd have heard of something as severe as a genetic plague of this magnitude and severity by now.

"But if it's a genetic disease, why is everyone so angry? Why don't they just take whoever it is to a hospital or something?"

The young man looked at Willow with the same scrutinizing expression the old woman had given her when Willow had asked her initial question, but even this came across as a charming appraisal. After a moment (in which Willow started to feel uncomfortable and looked away from his gaze to inspect the average shoe size of the crowd) he smiled a small yet reassuring smile and said "If we could fix what was happening to them we would, but there's no cure, and right now we need to make sure to get them away from this neighborhood and to somewhere they can't hurt anyone, but they wont go willingly."

Willow gave the young man an equally analytical optical inspection, and then turned to push her way through to the front of the crowd. Something about this didn't add up, in fact it sounded down right familiar.

By the time she reached the front of the crowd she would not have been even slightly surprised to have seen two dead children lying on the ground with small Wiccan symbols on their hands or foreheads, but instead all she saw was a myriad of random, heavy-to-light blunt objects being thrown by on-lookers towards the center of the circle.

There, a man, in what was once probably a white t-shirt, cowboy hat, and blue jeans; stood bent over a young girl in a small yellow jacket, khakis, and tennis shoes. It took Willow a moment to take this all in. This wasn't a peaceful protest; this was a modern stoning, and not of the four-twenty variety! AND WHERE WERE THE POLICE? How could they not have heard about this? Willow had the sinking suspicion that the police knew exactly what was going on here. Her blood began to boil, and her mind began to race for options on how to diffuse this situation... but then she saw something that took her breath away... a large broken bottle, once full to the brim with alcohol, now being used as a projectile, flew towards the man in the center of the crowd from one of the angry mob goers near her... before she had time to react it had already made contact with the mans body and ripped a gash in his side showing through the shirt... he flinched... Willow stood, horror struck... this had to stop...

But as she stood there, eyes wide, anger heating to a temperature she could only remember feeling once before in her life (when an annoying Goddess had feasted on her lovers brain), something amazing happened... the blood barely had any time to flow out of the wound... Willow's jaw dropped. The gash seemed to be healing itself, and fast, faster than anything even she had seen before. Within seconds it had closed up and appeared to be normal, healthy, scar free epidermis once more. Willow noticed that there were rips all over the mans shirt, and little bloodstains on him and the girl, but no wounds.

She could see the man and the girl wince with pain as more projectiles found their way to his torso, and more and more tiny little wounds opened and then vanished just as quickly without a trace. Then from behind her and to the left she heard it.

"Filthy mutant FAGGOTS!"

"... Yeah! You queer little mutant freaks, why don't you just die!"

There was a snap... a crackle of energy... a pop of a street lamp bulb overhead. The whole crowd felt it, the protesting died down almost immediately, the man and the girl looked up cautiously. The world seemed to have gotten a little more vivid, and yet it was though a cloud had descended upon the group of pedestrians, mid-violence, and everything was covered in an almost tangible feeling of foreboding.

There was a small spark of electricity and the people standing around Willow Rosenberg jumped back with a gasp of astonishment.

The two in the center of the crowd saw her standing there... eyes dark as obsidian hair flowing back in a wind that seemed to be blowing solely on her... hands down at her sides, fingers outstretched as small tendrils of electricity danced about them dangerously. Then she spoke.

"Mutants? Faggots? Queers?... do you know what it's like to be any of those? Do you know what it's like to be afraid every day that everyone's going to find out your' big secret? That you love someone that you shouldn't, that you weren't born the way everyone else was? To know that if people found out, that you could loose everything? You could wind up in an ally like this with people screaming at you and throwing glass just for being alive?"

The crowd around Willow fell back as if they had just been hit with an invisible wave of force strong enough to knock a small elephant off it's feet... Willows personal windstorm seemed to pick up, her feet left the ground and she began to float about six inches above it.

There was a gasp as the young witch floated forward (the air around her visibly pulsating with power) towards the two people in the center. Both of them were still bent over in a protective stance, staring at her with a mixture of awe, fear, and curiosity in their eyes.

"Well guess what..." said Willow in a voice filled with righteous rage "... you can feel that fear, and that pain. I can make you feel it."

"No wait, don't..." Said the man in the now tattered white shirt and cowboy hat, standing up a little...

But Willow wasn't listening, she was beyond angry, years of hatred flashed before her eyes, from the look on her mothers face when she tried to burn Willow at the stake, to the looks from Tara's family that had injured the woman that she loved so much... to the look of fear and pain she had seen over and over again on television from victims of hatred and bigotry all over the world... she hated mobs.

"I think I've had enough of your yelling, being scared, and brandishing heavy objects. "Like ooo look at me I'm an angry mob and have the right to be violent cause your on my planet." I think it's about time someone really showed you what you are doing, what it does to people... I think it's about time you feel a little bit of what it's like to be us."

"Wait..."

"We..."

"Stupid mutie Dyke! Someone do something!"

"...owe..."

"No don't..."

"...you..."

"Hit her with it! Hit her with it!"

"...PAIN!"


	4. Bamf!

Chapter IV Bamf

"I can't find him anywhere Buffy. All of the books Giles left us... pointy tales and blue skin... nada..."

"Oo but we did find blue tales and pointy skin..."

"Ew"

"Tara are you ok?"

"I don't like it... none of this is right, feels like they d-d-don't b-belong here, they sh-sh-shouldn't b-be here."

"Wo?"

"Did the fuzzy blue demon just do a Keanu Reaves impression?"

"Wo kommen Sie her?"

"Was that German?"

"Buffy do you think those chains will hold it?"

"I hope so."

"Who are you people? Vy am I in chains!"

"It speaks English too."

"Should we talk to him?"

"Vat do you vant from me? Wvere are the others?"

"Others?"

"I'll talk to him Xander."

"Who are you? Why were you in my house? And what did you do with Willow?"

"I am called Night Crawler. I do not know vere here is, so I do not know vy I am here. I do not know wvat Villow ez."

"I'd like to believe you, but there's this little thing in the back of my brain that tells me to be skeptical of guys with pointy tales and yellow eys... call it religious ethnocentrism..."

"I am not a demon!"

"Right..."

"Night crawlers are little rabbit looking things that kill people with razor sharp tongues... I think he's lying."

"How did you?..."

"They're also worms…"

"I have nightmares about them sometimes... look so much like bunnies... eigh!"

"Who are you?... Are you vith the friends of humanity?"

"Oh that's an understatement pal, she's..."

"I'll handle this Xander."

"Maybe you could explain what you and that woman with the 80's hair were doing taking a nap Willow's bedroom right about the time she disappeared?"

"I told you I don't know who Villow iz!"

"Well, you and albino-hair didn't have any trouble finding your way into her room? I swear if you did something to her!..."

"I do not know who Villow iz, vere is storm? Vat did you do to her!"

"Calm down, she's upstairs, and unconscious, now I want you to tell me very clearly how you got into Willows room."

"Look in case you haven't noticed, we have the sharp pointy objects and your chained up, a little more cooperation might be prudent."

"Anya."

"I'm just saying."

"The friends of humanity deserve much more then an explanation from me... how about I show you instead?"

"What?"

**BAMF**

"Ooof!"

**BAMF BAMF**

"BUFFY!"

**BAMF**

"Hit him with the sword hit him with the..."

"Look out!"

**BAMF**

"Xander!"

**BAMF**

"No one so young should be tought to hate so much, take me to my friend and you von't get hurt."


	5. Hecates Big Joke

Chapter V Hecates' Big Joke.

She stood in the middle of a circle of bodies, lying, rything on the cold cement. Her hand still shaking and her mind swirling in a deep confused mass of images and memories which were not her own. At her feet lay a girl... jet black hair fading to a bright strawberie red, clothed in a soot black sweater and equally dark-leather pants.

"Why am I lying on the ground in front of myself?"

"Rogue?... Rogue are you alright?" stammered a young girl in a yellow Jacket from behind her.

"Huh, oh sorry, right... I'm rogue, I'm fine."

"Rogue we need to get out of here before the police show up, I can already hear the sirens, are you up for it?" said a short, rough lookin man, in a tattered shirt and cowboy hat.

"Yeah, I reckon so... hold on tight y'all. Logan grab the me... I mean the girl, we can't just leave her here... everyone ready?"

In an instant they were moving upwards away from the street and the buildings, very fast. Low hanging, white clouds, swallowed them hole only to dissapear as quickly behind them in a sea of uniform fluffy waves...

"I'M NEVER GOING TO GET OVER HOW COOL THIS IS!" Yelled the girl clutching tightly to the womans arm.

"It does sort of take the edge off of my other powers" the woman replied.

Her aubern hair, highlighted by one large white streak, whipped out behind her as she flew, near jet speed through the air. She smiled as she let the strong winds wash over her, helping her clear some of the cobwebs from her now tangled mind...

She was Rogue... she could soar through the air like an angel, or lift a small tank with without pulling a muscle... her life was charmed and cursed... she could be closer to another living being than probably any other person on the planet, but she could not touch anyone for more than a few moments without killing them. She was a vampyre goddess... a vampyre... that was a weird way to think about it? Why had she suddenly made the analogy to a vamp... she was not alone anymore... suddenly there was someone else there with her...

"Who are you?" Said a young womans voice into her mind.

"My name is Rogue... you are me... you will understand soon."

Memories flashed through her mind, images of people she knew but had never met, her mind raced with the flow of information streaming through her conciousness, as she continued her fast but leisurely flight through the air.

"I am you?" came the voice again, confused...

"We are one, for now..." replied Rogues conciousness calmly.

"We are one... wow we're flying!" came the voice again, only this time it was mixed with Rogues own voice, and the thoughts were her thougts, the questions her questions, all answered as quickly as they were asked..."

Rogue knew, now, who the girl in her arms was. Her name was Willow Rosenberg, she was from sunnydale CA. It was a jumble of memories, all trying to settle into a space in her brain that was unused by some other thought or proccess.

"HALT unidentified flying mutant!"

A voice amplified a hundred times by a loud speaker knocked her out of her inner musings... looking around she saw a large creature floating ahead of her... it's arms and legs were a polished red metal, it's torsoe and face bore the easily recognizable insignia of three letters imposed upon a circle with large eagle wings stretched out behind them.

F.O.H.

"Logan? Is that a sentinal?" The young girl in her arms shouted... "I thought they destroyed them all, havn't they been illegal since genosha?"

"That's a boot-legged Sentinal, looks like the FOH heard about our little red head's moving speach back there..." replied Logan.

"Less talk. More flying really fast" Said Rogue as she darted left quickly through the air.

The oversized robot moved hurriedly to match her and crushed through a small condo in the proccess...

"Oh my god it's so unnescesarily large and destructive!" Said the girl.

"Rogue it's a sentinal remember, if we don't take it down soon a lot of people could get hurt or killed!" Came the mans voice from her other side, as he held tightly to the Red headed girl in his arms.

Rogue was thinking fast... the sentinal swung at her and steped on a car with a small dog inside... there was a muffled whimper...

She dodged low then high... she couldn't exactly punch it while carrying three people...

Then it hit her, like a lightning bolt from the ground, she realised what she had to do, what she could do.

"Jubilee!" Rogue yelled over the loud clanking of the giant metal creature as it raised one hand and fired a large lazer from turrets on the fists, narrowly missing her but knocking a telephone pole into a nearby appartment complex... "Jubilee, I need you to distract it for a minute while I hover, can you do that?"

"I'm your girl Rogue-ey... )" Replied Jubilee, rolling up the sleaves of her yellow jacket...

"HEY OSCARS THE GROUCHES SUMMER HOME!"

The robot continued to fallow them through their air dancing with the scanners in it's eyes...

"Yeah I mean you, ya lousy excuse for a transformer! I bet you don't even turn into anything cool do you?"

"That's right just keep looking right at me, dorothies got a little surprise for you tin woodsman!"

"CATCH!" KABOOOOOOOOOOM! 

Light exploded from the outstretched hands of the mutant called Jubilee. Fire crackers flew in random directions letting of loud explosions of plasma while a stream of their contemporaries flew into the eyes of the now disoriented mechanical assasin.

The crowed that had been fleeing in terror ooo'ed and awwed inspight of themselves.

"IF YOU ONLY HAD A BRAIN!

"Heart Jubilee..."

"Huh?"

"The tin Woodsman didn't have a heart."

"Oh right."

"Quiet you two I have to concentrate, the key to the girls power is in her memories."

"What?" The man and the girl asked in unison.

But Rogue did not answer, instead she closed her eyes, still hovering a good fifty feet off the ground.

Jubilee looked puzzled, the man in the hat looked distrustfull, the girl with red hair looked unconcious.

Then Rogue began to speek...

"Hecate I summon you, through mighty wind and and valiant fire, through gracious earth and merciles snow, bring to me my hearts desire..."

"Rogue what are you?..."

"Quiet Jubilee!" Snapped cowboy hat man.

"... Mighty Hecate I implore, as my enemies are yours, take his streangth, tear him down, make him powerless before me, make the mighty giant fall, make him nothing feared at all..."

It seemed as though a small hurricane had decided to localize itself around the four people hovering in the air. The wind had picked up so hard that Jubilee could barely make out what rogue was saying anymore... but her mouth kept moving and as she spoke blue sparks seemed to erupt from her skin and her eyes (including the whites) slowly turned as black as onix...

"... AS I AM YOURS AND WE ARE ONE, HECATE MY WILL BE DONE!"

A final loud crack of lightning seemed to strike from them toward the Sentinal... there was a loud crunch of metal, an eirie grating, the whole world seemed to go dark for an instant as though the sun had decided to take this exact moment to go on a vacational eclipse. The earth shook and Jubilee could hear car alarms sounding in the distance.

Then there was silence, the sun reapeared, the sky was blue again, a bird twirped and was quickly eaten by a cat. The sentinal was no where to be seen.

"Rogue... Rogue, what did you do to it?" asked Jubilee in a trembling voice.

"You'll see." said Rogue.

The floated down slowly to the ground still looking around cautiously. A crowed of people were standing around looking awe stricken and pointing with their mouths wide open.

"God, I wish people wouldn't do th... OH MY GOD!" exclaimed Jubilee doing a double take.

Standing upright, head about five inches in above the ground, was a tiny miniature version of a sentinal, waving it's arms around frantically, letting off little sparks of light, and speaking in a high pitched, monotone voice... "Death to all mutants... the friends of humanity will prevail!"

"Ummmmm..."

"My sentiments exactly." said the cowboy hat ladden man stepping to the ground.

"Can we keep it Rogue?" asked jubilee in mock excitement.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure the professor would love a biggoted little power ranger toy, runnin around the mansion tellin the students they're all genetic mistakes." replied Rogue dryly.

"So ummm what are we going to do with it then?" inquired Jubilee.

"One good solution comes to mind."

Kick

The mini sentinal flew accross the street, bounced off the edge of the sidewalk, and fell into the gutter. 


	6. The Friends of Whowhatamy

"Sh…She's up here…" Dawn did a Tara impression as she lead the dark blue demon up the stairs toward willows bedroom.

"Do not vorry child… I vill not harm you…" the creature spoke in an all to kind and comforting voice. "I only vish to find my friend and get back home."

Dawn struggled with this but decided that engaging in conversation and finding out all the information she could about the demon that had just single handedly taken out most of the Scooby gang (including her sister) was probably the only productive thing she could do right then.

"S… so that weird purply teleporty thing you did… that's how you got into Willow's room?" asked the young woman now leading the way more slowly.

"Ja" came the reply.

"And miss Albina-hair… what do you want with her?"

"She is a friend of mine… we are walking rather slowl…"

"So why don't you just teleport up and get her? Why do I need to show you where she is?" Dawn turned on her heel to face the slender blue demon. "I mean why not just get her and get the hell out of my house?" Dawn almost cringed but managed to maintain eye contact.

The blue demon sighed… "Because I cannot teleport somevere unless I can see it or know ze place vell… ozervise I could vind up in a vall or ze floor… and zat vould be painfull."

Dawn decided to push her luck… "So why here… why my house?"

"Please show me vere my friend is being held and I vill explain everything"

Dawn nodded and began to lead the way up the stairs again.

"So your friend… she's a demon to?"

"I am not a demon, how many times must I tell you, and neizer is Ororro."

"I don't know about that Kurt… I think Jubilee has described me that way once or twice…"

There standing in the doorway to Willow and Tara's bedroom stood the tallest most beautiful woman Dawn had ever seen. Her long white hair floated down over her shoulders like billowing clouds contrasting her dark flawless skin…

"KILL THE DEMON!"

Kurt was tackled from behind in a blur of blond hair and blue fur and went smashing through the lack of a door into Buffy's room… Dawn looked around shocked… the woman with white hair rushed past her… only to be grabbed another short blond brandishing a battleaxe…

"No Buffy for you Arrara!"

"It's Ororro" Dawn told Anya helplessly…

"Try that bamfy thing now why don't ya!" Buffy yelled from her room…

**BAMF**

"HAHA!"

Dawn saw the man who so closely resembled a blue demon smash into a wall…

"That's for me!"

**BAMF**

"OW!"

"Zat is for Ororro!"

**Crunch!**

"That's for Xander!"

"Unhand me child!" The woman called Ororro turned to Anya who was still pointing her battle axe threateningly…

"Child? I'll have you know I'm over 1000 years old you well proportioned hussy!"

There was a loud clap of thunder from outside… the woman looked at Anya, her long white hair flowing in a wind that was blowing inside the house for some reason… her eyes slowly shifted into stark white… electricity shooting and sparking from her pupils….

The tall woman reached forward slowly and touched the tip of the battle axe… Dawn screemed… Anya shook, her hair standing on end… then she fell to the floor convulsing…

"ENOUGH!" the woman stated commandingly and walked into Buffy's room. Two loud thumps later and Dawn had the distinct impression that the fight between Nightcrawler and Buffy was quite over.

Dawn knelt over Anya… she'd stopped shaking but was now unconscious… her pulse was alright though… she tried to think of what to do as she heard the voices from the other room.

"Ow Ororro! You hit me too!"

"I'm aware of that Kurt… where are we… who are these… people?"

"These people? You two come into my house! Attack me and my friends! Somehow kidnap willow and you have the nerve to run around throwing lightning bolts and calling us 'these people'?"

"Since I'm the one throwing the lightning bolts, yes I do have the nerve. What is your name girl?"

"Buffy." Dawn thought that was the most begrudging and spiteful use of the word she had ever heard.

"And what are we doing here Kurt?"

"I… I do not know, I assumed zat ve vere kidnapped… Ze last thing I remember I vas trying to teleport you out of harms vay… and zen… I woke up here…"

There was a pause… Dawn had the distinct image of two misbehaved children being interrogated by a parental figure.

"But she said she was part of ze friends of humanity."

"The friends of whowhatamy?"

"It seems… that there has been some misunderstanding… Buffy? We mean you and your friends no harm, if you mean none to us… and it would seem that it would behoove us to ask for each others assistance in order to make sense of what happened here… so if you would please tell your friends not to brandish any weapons at us… And you will both" there was a pause again "agree not to attack each other for at least a little while we might make a little more progress.


End file.
